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Poetry, Emi Wood Scully

Approximately 799 miles away from home

you turn up.

Crowding the deck;

Peering between slats

with your tribe: Heliantheae.

Family name: Asteraceae.

Ray and disk florets

benefit from pruning

to encourage further blooms.

Variegated blossoms.

Petals like a tie-dye t-shirt

purchased at Merle’s

with unearned money.

Blooms: the embodiment of teenage drives

through quiet country roads.

Blaring mixed tapes of the Dead

down lonely Guilford streets

In the summer.

Every so many miles

a Cape or Saltbox;

Offering mason jars

filled with small bouquets of you.

Tied loosely with thin burlap.

Cost: free.

A backdrop of faded buntings

draped outside of front windows,

leftover from the holiday.

Thank you: Johann Gottfried Zinn

for these thoughts of freedom

and burgeoning encouragement.

A silent remembrance:

the recklessness of youth

and eventual maturity

from the periphery inward.

Sitting out back

on this hot July evening

I feel akin to your beauty.

I, too, am somewhere in-between

Containing numerous rows

and a visible center.

Distracted by covert dahlias;

Perplexed by pushy cosmos

Poppies: stalled.


Emi Wood Scully is a fourth-year PhD Candidate in Literature at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. She is a budding Virginia Woolf and James Joyce scholar. When she is not working on her dissertation, you can find her: painting and drawing, singing, and trying new vegan recipes. You can read some of her published poems on her website:


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